


in my veins.

by combustible



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Five Stages of Grief, Gen, konoha week 2020, mcd: the cake burns, minor osaaka and konoaran
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:46:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27799447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/combustible/pseuds/combustible
Summary: konoha's attempt at baking.
Relationships: konoaka friendship
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11
Collections: KonohaLoveWeek 2020





	in my veins.

**Author's Note:**

> hi, im so sorry for this fic  
> if you.. stumble upon this fic with no background of what i usually write, pls dont judge me for this, i worte this in like two hours  
> for my cereal too crispy readers, i hope you're ready for MORE OF OUR FAV CHAOTIC BOY!  
> HAPPY KONOHA WEEK (day one : moving on)  
> <3

Konoha glares at the cake batter in front of him. It looks good. It looks damn fucking perfect: smooth, brown, shiny. And yet, when he brings a spoonful of it to his mouth- (who doesn’t like the taste of raw chocolate cake batter after all?) (Adults?) (Ha! Good thing he’s still 16 years old in his head according to Akaashi then) So- when he brings a spoonful to his mouth, eager to taste the doubtlessly delicious batter, hoping it will taste like chocolate and sugar, but the batter ends up leaving a tickling sensation on his tongue; Konoha glares. 

Taking his phone from his pocket at the speed of light, he dials Osamu’s number and brings it to his ear. It takes three rings for his friend to pick up.

“Yeah?”

“Osamu.”

“Akinori.”

“Is it normal if my chocolate cake batter tickles my tongue?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know when you eat these candies that bubble in your mouth and it tickles?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it normal if my cake batter does the same?”

“I think you already know the answer to that, Akinori.”

Konoha hangs up and glares a bit more. 

**Miya Osamu**

_You probably put too much yeast._

DENIAL. 

How does one remove yeast from a batter? Konoha wonders.

The answer appears to be: one simply can’t do such a thing.

So, the cake is ruined. But he doesn’t have any egg left, and it’s too late for him to run to the grocery store. Plus, he and Aran were too loud last night so their neighbours will probably refuse to give him their eggs. (Fair enough)

He glares.

He glares harder, before starting to move again. _THIS IS NOT HAPPENING._ He takes another spoonful of batter. 

'It tastes good, right?' he asks his tastebuds who wholeheartedly disagree.

**Miya Osamu**

_Do you need help?_

Konoha ignores the message and goes back to his batter. This isn't real. This life is an illusion. It's not Akaashi's birthday. It's not his cake. He is a fish. The batter is water. Do fishes even drink water? Or do they breathe it?

Putting his finger in the batter he brings it to his lips, tries to assess the situation; It's not that bad. Maybe if he puts more sugar?

His hand launches itself towards the sugar without second guessing his decision. It's only a few spoons, it shouldn't give Akaashi instant diabetes, right?

Another finger of batter tells him it might not give him diabetes _but_ it will probably give him an annoyance-induced headache.

Whatever. It'll be alright.

Or maybe he should just not go to Akaashi's party. Maybe he should stick to his couch and eat his yeasty cake all alone. 

ANGER. 

After glaring for a few seconds more; he can feel the heat rising inside of him as soon as his oven _beeps._ it’s like a wake up call, a signal that makes him want to scream at the batter. And so he does. 

Words aren’t the thing that escape his lips; 

It’s a sound, sure, but it bears not telligible meaning. 

It bears the weight of his frustration on this _fa_ musical note that he holds for a few seconds. 

He should be putting his batter in the oven right now; but here he is, screaming at that stupid bowl that has too much yeast in it. The brown liquid stares right back at him and he can almost see it mocking him. 

Fucking yeast. 

He needs a break. 

Taking a sponge to clean the counter as a distraction, his eyes land on the empty yeast bag laying on the floor, innocent as if it didn’t just _ruin his cake._ He takes it in a quick movement, before it can escape, and tears it apart, bit by bit, before throwing it in the trash with a loud _HA!_

He might have lost a battle, but he won’t lose this war. 

Yet, when his eyes land on the bowl sitting in the middle of the corner, heat rises to his head again and he groans, putting the butter away in the fridge- moving to grab the box of empty eggs. These fucking eggs that are obviously _not here._ If they had been, he could have tried to make another cake. _Ugh._

Taking the empty box, he closes the fridge and sighs. 

He’s alone. 

The box sits well between his fingers.

So, he starts hitting the counter with it, a long scream coming from his throat when he bangs cardboard against hard granite. By the time he’s finished, the box is almost flat in his hands, but he feels better. 

He throws it in the recycling bin.

BARGAINING. 

So, he should have put less yeast; he should have put less sugar. But he can’t do anything about it; feelings of anger and frustration only birthing new questions, new voices. 

If only he had paid more attention to the amount of yeast there was in each bag; if he had bought more eggs; if he and Aran hadn’t made so much noise; 

He could have made such a beautiful cake for Akaashi’s birthday.

Or at least he could have made a new one.

The heart shaped mold sits in the oven with the treacherous batter inside; 

Maybe the yeast will combust and disappear. 

Konoha sits in front of it, looking at his cake rise.

DEPRESSION. 

He stays for twenty minutes in front of his oven, hot air blowing straight onto his face when he finally realises silent tears have been running down his cheeks for at least ten minutes.

He just wanted to bake a cake for Akaashi’s birthday; it’s not that hard.

And so, he dials Osamu’s phone number again. 

“What?”

“I’M SUCH A BAD FRIEND!” he screams, eyes staring at the cake.

“What? What did you do?”

“I RUINED THE CAKE.”

“Oh.”

“He’s going to hate me; he always works so hard and I can’t even make a fucking cake; I’m the worst best friend ever, Osamu! I don’t deserve him, I should just stay home and watch the sky- not the stars because we can’t see the fucking stars from here- But that’s what I deserve FOR BEING SUCH A BAD FRIEND.”

“Akinori, breathe. You’re not a bad friend for messing up a cake.”

“You sure about that? You make him grilled peppers that he loves so much. And you never mess them up! I’m _such a bad friend, OSAMU.”_

“You’re not. And I’m sure he’ll love your cake anyw-”

“BECAUSE HE’S TOO NICE!”

“No, because he knows you tried and that’s what matters.”

“ _I don’t deserve him._ ” He lets his head fall forward, hitting the door of the oven in a loud _bang!_

“You do.”

“Okay.”

“And don’t be late tonight.”

“Okay.”

“And bring the cake even if you don’t like it.”

“Mokay.”

“See you tonight!”

ACCEPTANCE. 

Okay his cake might be too sweet, and there might be too much yeast in it which means there are literal _balls_ of yeast that tastes like tickling salt on your tongue; but it’s still a damn fully-standing brown perfect cake that he made; with all his heart (and all his eggs).

It might not be perfect like Osamu’s grilled peppers, but to Akaashi, it will probably look just as good. 

So, who cares if the cake is not _objectively_ perfect? (The other guests, probably.) Not Akaashi. 

Especially if Konoha’s proud of it. So he’s going to _fucking celebrate that cake and the birth of his best friend._

That’s what he’s thinking when he starts making blue icing. If his cake doesn’t _taste_ good, it’s going to at least _look_ good. 

And so, he starts piping small blue dicks on his heart-shaped cake.

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/yootasuke).
> 
> HAVE YOU EVER HAD A MENTAL BREAKDOWN BECAUSE OF A CAKE bc i experience this on a daily basis.  
> have you ever tried to make those fluffy pancakes that you see everywhere on youtube and put so much fucking yeast in it that the thing ends up being salty and tingly on your tongue? bc i have.
> 
> (when konoha is frustrated, he screams in a fa musical note bc my partner said it's the most frustrating note to make when you play the violin) (i have no musical knowledge)


End file.
